The kind of girl
by WrittenInCrayon
Summary: "She was the kind of girl who didn't dare to dream. Her hopes were forgotten words lost on paper; her faith limited to long ago memories left only for her remembrance, never recollected, that kind of faith was hopeless. Her fear of failure kept her from succeeding, because she never believed she deserved that kind of happiness." Same fic new summary, based on The wedding singer.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone, this is my second fanfiction and a prompt from monkeygirl872 "****Could you please make a fanfic about Wemma based on the Broadway version of Wedding Singer. Mainly using If I Told You and Grow Old with you." This story is roughly based on the wedding singer but I'd given it a bit of a twist… No, there aren't any zombies or vampires. Unfortunately. Or there might be… You'll have to read it to find out! (And it's also up to you! Your reviews mean a lot; they keep me focused, give me inspiration and just generally make my day! And I'm more than happy to fill your prompts so let me know if you have any ideas you'd like to see on paper (or on computer screen), I don't bite so feel free to message me even if it's just for a chat! Anyway I'll stop rambling now, here's the first chapter. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think, don't be shy!**_** :)**_

_She was the kind of girl, who hid in the sidelines, inhibited by fear of the light so she stayed in the darkness. She longed for adoration but feared the passion that burnt in a lovers gaze. So she convinced herself she was perfectly content to be nothing more than safe. Fearful of the risks she'd have to take to get home again. Realising before most there isn't much difference to a man, alone in a crowd, to a man stranded on an Island, the silence is enough to kill both. One person can make a difference, if they're the right one. Solitude can be taken, when silence is replaced by a lover's song. So she waited, for that one person who would take away her pain, who would melt her heart, waiting in the darkness for someone who'd show her just how beautiful life could be._

Emma's POV

"I'm proposing to Terri." Will's expressive eyes told me everything. They always did. He idolised her, adored her; worshipped her. But he didn't love her. He was in love with the idea of love, that was all, or at least that was what I told myself. It made it easier to hear. He showed me the ring; so delicate and elegant, a band of graceful white gold, finished with a single sparkling diamond; simply beautiful. But it would have looked better on my hand. I hated myself for thinking it, I should have been happy for Will, and yet I was so selfishly jealous, I was meant to be his best friend, and yet I was so much more than that. And Terri was less- less than Will deserved. I was too, I wasn't denying that, but how can you get better than the best, greater than perfection? No one was worthy of such perfection, but true love was.

_She was alone the day they met. She always was. He hadn't noticed her before. He wondered how, she defiantly stood out from the other girls. He was sure she wasn't in his year; she looked so much younger; so tiny and fragile. Somehow, the pretty blue dress she wore was untouched, unwrinkled, unblemished. Her auburn piglets were perfectly sculptured- immaculately formed; the bows blue to match her dress, even her tiny shoes were blue, with little blue bows that matched the ones in her hair. He smiled to himself, and ran over to where she sat._

Emma's POV

_I looked up when I saw him. I'd seen him before, many times. It wasn't hard to notice him, not when he was so... Confident. I wished I was like that. He was so fearless and knowing, it was like he had the whole world figured out. I barely understood my parents and they were all I knew. Will, I think his name was. Fine- knew his name was, was a lot bigger than me, with a cheeky smile and messy brown curls. I knew if I ever got close enough his eyes would sparkle. He approached quickly; unfazed by the idea he might slip and fall, straight onto the muddy ground, he ran eagerly, happily. I wished I ran like that, I wished I was daring and joyful. He stopped running when he reached me. He had a chin dimple- it was worse than I'd thought. _

"_Hi, I'm Will, what's your name?" He asked cheerily, a permanent smile etched into his features, his blue eyes sparkled, I knew they would. I looked up, forced a smile. "Hi. I'm Emma." I mumbled shyly, looking down timidly when it seemed fit. Will didn't seem at all fazed my awkwardness. My lunch on the other hand... "What's with your grapes?" He asked; pointing towards the grape I was cleaning vigorously. I glanced up, blushing furiously "I'm just making sure it's really clean." I muttered defensively. He nodded, sensing my change of tone Will moved on, "Would you like to play tag with us?" he asked kindly, nodding over to a group of kids running in the playground. "No... No. I mean... No, thank you... I'm happy here..." I tried to smile but it turned out as a grimace, too shaken by the idea of running around in the playground, in the dirt, surrounded by unclean people, in the dirt."Ok." He smiled, oblivious, and sat down by my side. I flinched, out of habit, but he didn't notice; no one ever does. "You've got really big eyes." He stated proudly. "Um, thank you?"I responded, trying to think of an appropriate reply that made me sound normal. "Kind of like Bambi... Has anyone ever told you that?" Will mused "No. No they haven't..."_

"_Will, come over here!" We both turned to the source of noise. Terri. She was the most popular girl in school, even then, in elementary school. She ran over to where we were sat, her golden locks fanning out like a cape; a gorgeous, yellow cloak. "What are you doing talking to her?" Her blue eyes blinked rapidly. She had such beautiful blue eyes, like perfect indigo sapphires. "Terri are you ok? Do you have something in your eye?" Will asked innocently, "I was just asking Emma is she wanted to play with us." Will told her smiling kindly, so innocent and gracious. "Of course she doesn't want to. Now come on we're playing kiss chase." Terri hid her hatred with perfect blue eyes, a pearly white smile. Will grimaced "I'm fine, play without me. I want to talk to Emma for a bit." Terri glared at me, but Will didn't seem to notice, he never saw the bad in people. When she'd left he turned back to me. "I don't like kiss chase, girls are icky... You're ok though..." He smiled at me kindly. To young and naive to realise the reason for my widened doe eyes, flushed cheeks. One day he'd just be too naive. _

From that moment on we were best friends, inseparable, adorable and clueless. Opposite, given, but we made each other complete, the problem was that Will didn't know he was broken.

_Have you seen Titanic Emma? I shook my head, allowing red waves to fall from my shoulder. We were sat in the park we'd played in as kids, but at twelve we decided we were too old to play. On that particular summer's night of our fourteenth year we sat for hours talking long into the night. Untouched by the frosty draught that fought with the falling summer sun. I was more than happy to sit sweetly in Will's alluring presence, I preferred talking anyway, I was always fearful I'd fall into the mud, slightly less so in Will's presence, I knew he'd catch me if he could and the panic attack that was sure to come was almost worth Will's comfort and attention; almost, but not quite. I was thankful Will never questioned the picnic blanket I was adamant to brining to every time we simply sat on the soft grass. So I sat carefully, cautiously, on my mat, occasionally brushing invisible creases from my immaculate yellow dress. As near to blissful as I ever was, treasuring the only joy I knew. Dreaming of the day I'd find complete gratification. _

"_It's way too racy." I blushed feverously and looked away from Will's teasing gaze. "It's romantic, Emma." I heard the smile in Will's words and turned to catch the fleeting grin, perfectly lopsided. I sighed as I tried not to swoon so obviously, which was painfully difficult when he was looking at me like that; alluring and innocent, tempting and naive. I couldn't help my words, "What's love like?" I asked with wide eyes and crimson cheeks. Will didn't know, I knew that, he knew about as much about love as I did, which was less than nothing. I just wanted to hear his definition seeing as mine was simply: "Will." He gazed at me curiously, trying to read my dreamy childlike expression. Even if we didn't know it we were still children. So far from adulthood, so far from love, still I scarcely understood my parents, I hardly understood myself, and yet I knew Will better than anyone. He may have been my definition of love but I wasn't his. " Love is building a fire when the furnace breaks, love's carrying someone around when their arthritis gets bad, it's giving someone your coat when it gets cold, getting them medicine when their tummy aches." I nodded, as if I understood. I smiled at his dreamy gaze, his boyish grin that would never change; absorbed by his honest adoration for the mystery of love. I hoped one day we could discover love together. Rewrite the definition as one._

"_What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked Will one day. "I want to be a wedding singer." He told me defiantly, I tilted my head in confused awe. "I can't think of anything better than getting to sing, which I love, having fun everyday and seeing people who are so happy and in love, who've found the one they want to grow old with.. Somehow making that perfection something more... Being part of something so beautiful and special everyday... That's the dream, Em. Being part of something special makes you special, right?" "Right." I nodded, smiling; he was more perfect than I knew. So dreamy and hopeful, he was the part of me that never existed. I wished I could be so optimistic and confidant. It must have been nice to feel safe, to be protected from reality with hopeless faith. Instead I didn't dream for the fear of waking up. He dreamt of perfection... I feared such beauty, because I knew I couldn't bare it if I lost what was flawless, it was better not to know, it was safer not to dream. One day he'd show me more than perfection, more than flawless beauty, one day there'd be so much more; love, in its truest form would dare to overwhelm every idea of perfection prior to the end of childhood. _

"That's great Will, I'm so happy for you." It should have been me.

_He was the kind of boy who didn't understand the meaning of her flushed cheeks, widened adoring doe eyes. He was the kind of boy who taught his best friend what love is when he didn't know himself. He wasn't one to wait; he had his whole life figured out. He was the kind of boy who could take away her pain, who could melt her heart. He was born with the gift of sight; he saw what so many couldn't, many too blinded by greed and hate. Few blinded by fear of the light. Those afraid would stay in the darkness. But Will, he wasn't that kind of boy. Instead, he'd take centre stage, waiting for that one person visible in the crowds of thousands; that one member of his audience who'd never change; his biggest fan. He waited to show her how beautiful life was, to share his sight with the fearfully blind. But first he'd have to see what was right in front of him._

**If you've seen The Wedding Singer then you'll know that the characters met at a wedding, but I thought I'd change it a bit and make them childhood friends instead. Thank you for reading I hope you've enjoyed it so far, please let me know what you think in a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

_She was the kind of girl who didn't dare to dream. Her hopes were forgotten words lost on paper; her faith limited to long ago memories left only for her remembrance, never recollected, that kind of faith was hopeless. Her fear of failure kept her from succeeding, because she never believed she deserved that kind of happiness._

Emma's POV

"His smile brought her back to life; his gentle touch informed her that she'd never lived before that moment. The simplest embrace set her soul on fire, her body froze in shock. In a moment she was free, for the first time in her life she wasn't scared; she was loved. The simple idea made her glow with bliss; a joyful smile graced her features; loved." Somehow the words wrote themselves- they always did. I couldn't help but feel like they deserved better than the previously untouched napkin that lay before me, scrawled with my spidery print. Like somehow I deserved better than a job I cared so little about, in a place that had never felt like home.

"Emma! Come on, table three's been waiting for this order half an hour! Don't just sit there daydreaming! Actually move and you might get there before Christmas!"

I glanced up guiltily at my boss, "I'm so sorry, I was somewhere else..." I blushed sheepishly at my boss's tutted response "hmm. " She grunted dubiously "Yes, well, some of us have to work for a living." I avoided her cynical grimace, hastily scurrying towards table three with the appropriate plates.

I wouldn't say I hated my job. But I definitely didn't love it. When I woke up in the morning I didn't think "Yay, let's go serve some people!" In fact my usual reaction was "It pays the bills." A job was a job and nothing more. I wouldn't say I was unhappy. But I definitely wasn't happy. I had a boyfriend I'd been seeing for a while. Carl. He was nice enough, with a charming smile and a calming presence he was practically perfect. The fact that he was rich helped, too. But I didn't want a perfect smile or a fancy car; I didn't want perfection, because if you ask me, a flawlessly charismatic smile could never compete with a perfectly adorable lopsided grin. And anyway, I'd choose a beaten up clunker over some over- priced flashy sports car that costs more than my house any day.

Ever since Will had confessed his dreams on that breezy summer's night of our childhood I'd dreamt of living for love, of knowing more than just average. I dreamt of complete happiness, and yet somehow I never thought of my fantasies as more than just that, I never believed I'd find the kind of joy I so hopelessly dreamt of, those doomed daydreams were strictly limited to paper and midnight tears. They were nothing more than the fantasy of a loveless infant.

Will was nothing more than a friend who had made the misjudgement of being kind to someone who'd never known such compassion, and who'd made the mistake of being so damn attractive. But he was marrying Terri and that was that, there was nothing I could do about it, because I was just a friend. I couldn't help but wonder what if, what if I told him how I felt, what if he saw what I did, what if he could love someone like me. There was a time that I believed, even if that was just for a moment. For a moment I mistook his dreamy expression for love, when I forgot that he always had the same dazed, faraway look in his wistful blue eyes.

"_And then they said that I can't write about something I know nothing about..." I mumbled sorrowfully over quite sobs and hiccups, reliving the sad moment I realised all my dreams were hopeless. "Your parents said that?" Will asked shocked that anyone could be so mean. He'd been brought up by his grandmother, a kind, loving woman who adored her grandson with all her heart. She'd always told him that he could be anything he wanted, he was taught to dream, to reach for the stars and never be content with less than perfection. I was taught to settle, to fear the unknown and to be grateful with less than perfect, because I wasn't worthy of such flawless bliss. _

"_You can be anything thing you want, who are they to tell you what you can and can't be?" Will rose from his place at my side, animated with emotion, alive with passion. I stifled a smile at Will's energetic response; I never knew he cared so much... Of course I should have guessed, we'd been best friends for a long time and we spent so much of our time together that it was obvious that we got on. But I just never really thought about it before. Will had just always been there. But he wasn't just another part of my life, he was my whole life. And I know it sounds sad, so don't feel bad for me. It was just a fact of life, or mine at least; the ugly truth. And I was perfectly content to be just a friend, I wouldn't say I was blissful, though, I wasn't gleeful like I'd dreamt or overjoyed as I wished. But I was okay; there were moments that I felt something close to happiness._

_I allowed a small smile through my tears as I replied "They're my parents." I shook my head as I continued, "And besides they're probably right... I mean who am I kidding? I'm just, I'm just..." Words failed me as I made vague gestures with my hands, unable to describe how truly hopeless I felt. Will shook his head in denial, "Em... Don't be so hard on yourself, have a little faith... If it helps I believe in you..." It helped- a lot. He smiled his perfect lopsided grin and winked cheekily, I laughed despite myself and playfully slapped his arm, he rubbed the spot teasingly and reclined on the soft grass of the park floor. Turning to me as he said "Besides maybe you just need a bit of practice... "I glanced at him in wonderment, "what do you mean? I should write more?" He pondered this for a moment before he turned towards me fully so that his body rested before mine, giving me his undivided attention. "Have you even been kissed, Emma?" He asked me bluntly. Chuckling at my shocked expression, widened eyes and flushed cheeks at his unhesitant question. "Um, N- No... No I haven't..." I mumbled shyly, hiding behind a curtain of auburn curls. "Well it has to be hard writing romance when you know nothing about it..." He carried on when I made no attempt to disagree, or even to comment. "I just thought- no- no... That's a terrible idea, or course you wouldn't want to... Just... Forget I said anything, ok?" I watched as he battled with his conscience, smiling slightly at his adorable stuttering, allowing myself to admire his insecure blush, maybe he was human after all, and not a god as I had previously thought. "What's your idea... I won't laugh... I promise." I whispered sincerely. Will sighed; I could practically see the clogs turning as he pondered this, he was silent for a moment before continuing. "Ok... But if you don't want to I completely understand..." I nodded, encouraging him with a warm smile. "I just thought that maybe... I could kiss you... Just so you know what it's like... To help with your writing... But if you don't want to that's fine I just-" I was nodding before he had finished his sentence. My red waves bouncing rhythmically as I nodded eagerly, way more enthusiastic than I should have been about kissing my friend... Because it meant nothing... And yet it meant everything. Realising my unladylike excitement I shook my head and blushed further, turning a deeper shade of crimson. But then, I spent so much of my time is Will's presence in a deep shade of scarlet that he probably knew no different, he probably thought of me as just being permanently red. "I mean- I- I... I guess that would be an... Um... logical idea..." I stuttered shyly, wishing I could be more composed, more poised, I hated that I was so easily read, everything I'd wanted to be was controlled, collected and calm but in that moment I was anything but. I was unguarded, insecure and panicked. Will must have seen the fear in my eyes, the horror in my heart because he said nothing, knowing anything he would have said would be rendered pointless. All he could do was understand, which was near enough impossible so we settled with accept and endure. Love would have been a better option but that wasn't likely; I didn't even love me. So instead, he smiled, that wonderful boyish grin that I had decided was mine alone and nodded evenly, allowing me a moment of sanctuary in his eyes before he whispered something that shouldn't evoke the reaction it did. "Okay." My heart picked up pace, beating so loudly I feared he might hear it himself. My almost permanently flushed cheeks gained colour and I shut my eyes for a moment in an attempt to gain some composure. Opening my eyes I was shocked to find Will closer than before, I gasped at the proximity and avoided Will's eyes, letting mine trail to the ground, the surrounding skies- anything but Will's questioning stare. After a moment I let my eyes meet his, searching them for emotion, anything close to how I felt; his expression was unreadable; his eyes inhumanly beautiful. His face inched closer still and my gaze fell to his lips. His perfection was haunting. Up close everything was clearer, more real. The moments that followed seemed stretched into hours, and yet were over in a minute. In the second our lips met I felt everything and nothing. Fireworks? More like a thousand flares. Butterflies? More like angry hornets. Nothing was perfect, nothing was as I'd expected. But that doesn't mean it wasn't wonderful. Maybe it was perfect in it's own way, or maybe it was so much more. I'd dreamt of that moment for so long that the real thing couldn't possibly exceed my expectations. And in a way it didn't, the kiss was clumsy and flawed, the way our noses clashed was anything but perfect and the setting was far from romantic. So in that moment as the wind tore at my hair and clothes I couldn't help but be disappointed. The way the sky opened above up brought me out of my daze. And it wasn't even a nice kind of rain, it wasn't just a shower. It wasn't like the end of the rom-com- the moment that the main characters realise they're made for each other and dive in for an unrealistically perfect movie star kiss, in the rain. I wasn't so absorbed in the moment that I didn't feel the icy drops of rain on my face. I felt the pouring rain, the angry wind. I _was_ mesmerised by the wonderful warmth that coursed through my veins as our lips met. I _was_ awestruck by the way Will's arms rushed to catch my body as I grew weak. I wouldn't have fallen, though; I was sat down at the time. But it's the thought that counts. And if I had been standing I was sure my knees would've turned to jelly and I would have fallen deeper into Will's loving-but-only-in-a-friend-way embrace. I would've been protected from the muddy ground below by his heroic hold. Assuming I wasn't already standing on the blanket I always brought with me, that is. Then, I'd be saved from a muddy fate by Will's gallant warmth. But I wasn't suddenly changed, never instantly flawless. My problems weren't gone and the moment wasn't perfect, or anywhere near. That's when I got it; I finally understood happiness. I'd spent so long searching for it that I didn't see it when it was right in front of me; I lost sight of its true meaning. Happiness wasn't perfection, it wasn't flawlessness at I'd previously believed. Happiness was, well, happiness. It was not caring that the moment is blemished or flawed, loving the imperfect beauty of the flawed moment, and just being, well, happy. And honestly, I couldn't have cared less about perfection. As the heavens cried I couldn't help but smile. There I was in the park I'd spent half of my childhood in with possibly, no, definitely, the love of my life. So what if it was raining? So what it I was cold and wet and the sun was fading? When did any of that start to matter? I suddenly realised; all I'd ever wanted was Will, all I'd ever wanted was to be loved and I was throwing all of that away over some silly childish idea of how love should be. Love isn't red roses and candle lit dinners, it isn't moonlit walks in the park or drinking red wine as the sun sets; love's the meaning behind the cliché, the reason for the story- not the story itself. Love means something different to everyone. Maybe my definition of love is the kissing my best friend in the pouring rain, maybe love's the raging wind tearing at my soaked clothes, maybe it's the end of the day spent in the park with the person who means the most to me in the world, whether he knew it or not. Maybe the time and the place doesn't matter, maybe it's about the person you spent it with; maybe Will was the definition of love after all, or mine at least. _

_I don't know how long we sat there silently, the rest of the world was a meaningless blur; the time was irrelevant. Eventually, or suddenly, we pulled apart. Regretfully, or thankfully, we ended our, or my, first kiss. I bravely, or timidly, questioned his dazed stare, was that love I saw in his wistful blue eyes? Maybe adoration? Possibly newly found sentiment? No. It was the result of a grandmother who believes in you, of being taught to dream; it was the result of faith, of hope. Not love, or maybe never love, possibly definitely love. "T-th-at was...Educational." _

_He was the kind of boy who spent his whole life believing, even when he had no reason to. He lived for love and love alone, not that he knew love, though. But still he dreamt, and he hoped and he wished. But the more he dreamt and hoped and wished the less he believed; because it was hard to believe when he had no reason to. She was the only thing that had ever made sense, and she was the only thing that ever would. But still he was blind, gazing past what had been there all along, what he'd spend his whole life searching for; what would wait forever, until he finally gained vision; aimlessly searching for the perfection that wasn't happiness as he had once believed. Luckily she'd wait; possibly definitely he'd see her one day, or someday. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't, certainly one day... Maybe. _

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter; I'd love to hear what you think. Sorry that it's a bit of a filler, but I hope you liked it anyway. Thank you so much for reviewing, your support means a lot. **_**:) **_


	3. Chapter 3

_He was the kind of boy could lose the meaning of truth; of reality. After so long dreaming and believing and hoping and wishing, he lost track of what he'd dreamt and believed and hoped and wished for in the first place. In the mist of beautiful lies reality became unreal, clouded by a vision of maddening faith. _

Will's POV

"…And you'll have to sell your apartment, of course, so that we can move into one of those new houses that are being built…" Terri was in full rant mode, I'm surprised she noticed my questioning gaze, my skeptical stare, but she did, somehow. "You know, because they're not clean…" I raised an eyebrow, responding with little more than silent disbelief. Terri was… indescribable. With anything less than a novel of words at least, and even that was cutting it a bit thin. I'd never understood her, she was crazy and mysterious and knowing and enclosed. I'd known her my whole life and yet I'd never really _known_ her. She knew me, though; she knew how to make me do exactly as she desired with nothing more than a flick of her glossy blonde hair.

Terri smiled sweetly, bitterly. She leaned towards me gracefully, menacingly. And smiled that perfect smile I knew I'd do anything for. "I thought you wanted me to be happy Will? And I'm just doing this for us… for our family." That was all she needed to say, one line and I was sold. I couldn't deprive my family of anything, even my non-existent one. I wasn't sure what a baby would want with polished door handles, but that wasn't important. The only thing that mattered was my future wife and children, their happiness. "Ok." "Dinner, tonight, pick me up 7:30 sharp." It was more of an order than a question. But I nodded, dumbfound, all the same. With a gentle, sinister kiss she was gone.

I thought I might use the spare time to write my wedding vows. I hadn't got round to writing them yet and I knew I should at least make a start, but every time I picked up my pen it was like words just disappeared, suddenly my mind was blank, or full of unimportant nothings. So that's how I was sat when I saw her; pen in hand, staring at the white wall opposite; concentrated, annoyed; determined to write more than just the name "Terri."But even that didn't seem right, didn't feel right, the letters didn't seem to match, the name didn't hold any meaning, it sounded foreign on my tongue, and yet I'd known her since elementary school… I wasn't sure what it was, or wasn't, all I knew was I had to write my vows soon and I didn't even know how to start.

"Will, hi…" I looked up and smiled fondly, allowing my eyes to rest on the figure before me. I took in the innocent doe eyes, the glossy red hair. My smile grew. She was so… familiar; so wonderfully known. Her nervous gaze shifted to the table I rested on, she seemed to discover something there, something so insignificant no one but her would notice: a speck of dirt. I watched intently as she tried as best she could to clean the trivial smudge as discreetly as possible. The concentration in her eyes was unquestionable, the panic equally apparent. When she was satisfied I heard her release a breath she must have been holding. I watched as her features relaxed, as much as they could or would, as they ever did. Still on the edge of fear but safe for a now, she was relentlessly apprehensive, persistently waiting, tirelessly on edge.

I could read her like a book and I loved that about her. She tried to be closed off and protected but I could always see behind her mask, always could, always would. Somehow both poised and falling, her sincere innocence was truly refreshing. She somehow felt like home, because she was the only thing that'd never changed and I hoped never would, because she was my safe place, wonderfully known, beautifully unaware. She was naive and fearful… kind of like a little sister, and I was more than happy to protect her from the dangers of the real world, or I would have been if I could get my head out of the clouds and see it myself. "Hey Em. How are you?" I offered a lopsided grin I hoped would make some effort to fix the terrible day she must have had, I knew she hated working as a waitress, even if she wouldn't admit it to me, or even to herself.

Emma was the kind of girl who could be anything she wanted, or she could, if she took the leap of faith. I knew her fear kept her stationary, I just wished there was some way I could help. I tried though, I always tried.

I'd read her stories, when she wasn't looking, of course, and she was definitely talented, she always was the smart one. But what shocked me the most was the content. The way she wrote was beautifully romantic, amazingly passionate and at times truly heartbreaking. It was everything I hoped love might be, I was proved wrong, though, as I discovered when I started dating Terri. It wasn't romantic or passionate, heartbreaking, maybe, but only because it wasn't the former. But still, maybe love stories were just exaggerated, I mean they had to be, I was in love with Terri and yet I felt none of the feelings I'd heard of, but I loved her, of course I did… Didn't I? Emma's stories made me wonder, they made my heart ache with promise and my eyes bleed with hopeless tears of a loveless child's neglected dream. Somehow she seemed to know of more, of greater than what was real, than what I had or knew, she wrote of something so much bigger than either of us; something I longed to see with every fiber of my being. I craved to know of love that made me laugh and cry and hope and question. I wanted the kind of romance I'd dreamt of as a child, the kind that could change a person forever, for better or for worse. Terri was perfect, or she should have been, but that was all, she wasn't wonderfully flawed as I oddly dreamt. I somehow wished she was imperfect, with quirks I'd learn to adore as our love grew, because they were her, and to me, she was perfect, because I loved her. But she was perfect before we met, almost too perfect, and I didn't even know her, to me that wasn't right, there was nothing to learn to love, nothing to complete. I wanted to be someone's prince, the reason she smiles and sings, the reason she laughs, the reason she lives. But with Terri, I was almost obscure, just another piece of the flawless life she created, that was already too perfect. That needed no fixing, no saving. I needed to be someone's world, someone's reason and meaning, I was waiting endlessly for a warm body to fill my empty embrace; I needed to hold her as much as she needed to be held. Somehow I missed the falling princess that had been there all along. Whether blinded by fear or stupidity I managed to look past the very thing I needed the most and seep further into the mistaken darkness, missing the helpless cries of Cinderella herself.

Emma seemed a darker shade of pink than usual… She was always crimson in some form, but in that moment, on that day, she truly was scarlet. Maybe she was sun burnt? I did remember her mentioning that she burnt easily. But I always put her fear of the sun down to the stickiness of it all… or maybe the fact that her freckles showed more as she darkened. But personally I loved the sweet blemishes, the simplicity was uncanny but I couldn't help but like… No, adore, the way she shyly tried to hide them with a dusting of foundation, and never quite managed to hide them all. It was at that thought I realized I'd spent about ten minutes staring mindlessly at her. "Sorry Em… I was somewhere else… What did you just say?" I chuckled at myself as I watched her shake her head slightly, giggling sweetly at me before she continued. "Just that it's been really busy here lately… I'm on my lunch break at the moment…" I nodded, encouraging her to carry on, expecting her to quickly switch the attention to me; I knew she hated the limelight. "So… Um, how are you?" She asked as I'd expected. She glanced up from her shoes bravely meeting my eyes with her own timid gaze. I smiled warmly, "I'm good… Just doing some wedding planning with Terri, and…. Oh, how rude of me, please, sit down Emma. You must be hungry, right?" I watched her toy with the idea, obviously hungry, but not wanting to impose. "Well, I…" She stuttered a response, bottom lip chewed between her teeth. Seeing her adorable self battle I decided to take charge. "What would you like, a PP&J sandwich? I know it's your favorite." "I…" Emma paused mid sentence, still unsure. "I couldn't eat a whole one anyway, so we'll go half and half, my treat… I'm not asking Emma, I'm telling you… Unless you want a perfectly good lunch to go to waste…" By this point I'd risen from my seat to stand before her, smiling cheekily, knowing she couldn't resist my tempting suggestion. "Well… If it'd go to waste otherwise…" She considered "It would." I stated firmly. Carefully riding her of the apron she wore, swiftly untying the string and folding it neatly, placing it behind the chair opposite my own. "Then I guess that'd be the only viable option… What with all those hungry children in Africa and, you know, homeless people, and the poor…" I stifled a laugh at her rambling cuteness. "Exactly. Wouldn't be right, wasting something that delicious..." She was nodding by now, finally content, "Okay then." She smiled happily, a grin I gladly returned. "Waiter? Could we have a PP&J sandwich- no crusts, a plate of fries and two cokes… one straw? Thanks." I smiled and looked down to Emma, meeting a grin that matched my own. I lead her to the table I'd previously sat at alone, before pulling out a chair for her and returning to my seat.

"No way! Red grapes are the best!" Emma laughed, shaking her head as she replied, "Come on, you can't seriously believe that! The green ones taste way better than the red." I chuckled as I reached for a fry, offering her the plate as I munched happily. "No thank you. I'm full. You have the rest, really." "There's only one left Emma…" "Oh, really? Did we eat them all? Wow… No go on you have it." Emma insisted, pushing the plate in my direction, nodding encouragingly. "How about we split it?" Emma laughed melodically and I couldn't hide my smile, I knew how silly that sounded. "Who splits fries?" She asked uncertainly "Umm we do?" She shook her head, sighing, as she gladly gave in. "That sounds perfect."

"I was wondering if… if you don't mind… we could…. I could… we could… um… no, actually, don't worry, that's a terrible idea… There's no way you'd…. No, no, of course not. Just, forget I said anything, ok?" I stuttered awkwardly, embarrassed at my ridiculous idea- there's no way Emma would agree to it, or be comfortable with it. Emma's eyes clouded with compassion, with understanding, it was usually her that was stumbling over discomfort. "You can tell me anything Will… You know that…." I looked up at her pleading Bambi eyes, sighing in defeat. She always did have a sort of power over me. But I was happily helpless, knowing she'd never intentionally hurt me, completely out of control I'd never felt safer. Her hold over me was just about the only thing she shared with Terri, but with Emma it was different. She never used her influence for her own gain, no; Emma would never manipulate me like that, she only ever tried to help, even without meaning to she always made the most hopeless of situations ten times better. I resisted the strange urge to reach for her hand, why would I do that? Was it the way it was so innocently resting there, and her skin looked so soft, so pale and gentle… No. What was I saying? A friend doesn't hold another friends hand because it looks warm and welcoming. I couldn't risk her friendship for a comforting touch, and yet her kind eyes welcomed love, they told me to confide and unwind, to feel whatever felt right. Emma would never judge me, not ever. But I couldn't, I shouldn't, so I didn't. Instead I spoke as I wished and saved what was more for a better time. _What_? No, for never. I was engaged to Terri, and I loved her, definitely, probably, certainly… maybe? "Well, I was trying to write my vows earlier…" Did her face drop? Did her smile fall? Was that wishful thinking? Why was I thinking and believing when I should be uncaring? Or at least caring less than I was. "And I just couldn't write, well, anything…" Was that a smile? Was that uncertain gladness? Or was I only seeing of what I dreamt of in her eyes, why was I caring when I should be caring so much less than was, or could; or did. "So I was wondering, if you could help, I mean I completely get it if you don't want to, but you're just so talented and I thought if anyone can help me it's you, and-" "Yes." She interrupted certainly. "Really?" I knew it was a long shot, I never expected her to agree, but I figured it was worth a try. "You don't have to if you don't want to…" "I'd love to help you, Will." She smiled, honestly, beautifully. _Wha_t? "Really." She nodded, certainly. And I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, "great."

"Wait a minute…" Emma asked softly, having just read my creation, having seen my smug expression; she tried to let me down easy. "This is literally a list of romantic clichés" I winced at her discovery, "I hoped you wouldn't notice…" I replied, deflated. Emma sighed and shook her head, "as lovely as this is, Will, you can't use other people's words, you've got to use your own. Otherwise it won't mean anything." I nodded, understanding, even agreeing "I know, I know, I just… Can't, I go blank whenever I pick up a pen…" I confessed sadly, Emma nodded, as if she understood. "Then tell me, what do you love about her?" I pondered this, what did I love about Terri? She was very pretty, sure and smart, defiantly, I tried to picture her in my head; _delicate, graceful features, porcelain, almost transparent skin, so close to broken, so wonderfully close to destruction; heavenly, cherished, unloved. But this unmistakable, disregarded, beauty had meticulous locks of fiery red, perfectly curled, fearfully overlooked. Emotive eyes of honey brown, warmth and love overpowered sincere boredom. Auburn overwhelmed blond and genuine compassion substituted false appreciation. _I sighed in frustration. "Well… I…" "Look it's completely understandable that you can't pour out your feelings on demand, maybe we should have a break from this?" I shook my head stubbornly, "no way. I haven't got enough time to just sit down and do nothing, Em. And I sing at weddings everyday… I hear this kind of thing all the time. What's wrong with me?" I growled in frustration, and avoided Emma's kind gaze, why did she have to be so sweet all the time? I just needed someone to be angry at but Emma was so annoyingly calm, why couldn't she be anything less than perfect, for just a second I could be angry without guilt. But the way her fearful, knowing eyes radiated warmth made any ounce of distaste drain away. I was left with her intoxicating kindness; regretfully refreshing. I couldn't break her with careless words and her stance was so unbalanced I was afraid that might be all it would take. I gazed into her fearful, doe eyes and forced a genuine smile, "I'm sorry Emma… I don't mean to take this out on you… I just… I just, thought it would be different, you know?" Emma's fragile honey brown eyes widened an I watched as she brushed a stray wisp of soft auburn hair from her eyes, tucking a gentle curl behind her ear as a perfectly manicured hand hesitantly reached for mine. As we touched I felt something I'd only felt once before. A feeling I'd never forget, not in a million years. In fact I barely didn't remember in all the years leading to the second of our touches. No other contact could compare to the warmth I felt on that night, no other sentiment could replace that which overwhelmed me in that moment; that which would consume my every thought for many, many more. It wasn't the first time I'd held Terri's hand or kissed her. No, instead, it was the first time I'd kissed Emma. Before that moment I hadn't so much as held her hand, or felt anything of the sort. Because I was afraid my touch and the germs that she was so wary of would upset her, even the simplest of things could trigger her, and I was well aware. And yet somehow the result of something so much more was anything other than a panic attach. Her usually fearful, nervous eyes were graced with so much more than panic; heightened emotion at the highest of extremes; wonderful, beautiful, undeniable; love. But that couldn't be right, not with the circumstances. How could she be feeling such adoration at a time so hopelessly wrong, so truly flawed? The rain was vicious and angry, the sun was almost entirely gone, but the clouds hid the stars, trapping us in almost complete darkness. Ridding any hope for a shooting star, any hope for possible wishes or dreams, any likeliness for optimism of faith; hopeless, desperate, flawed and wrong. Then why did it feel so right? Why did my arms feel complete with her resting there? Why did she look so beautiful in the almost darkness? She was somehow older, wiser; educated. Her soft red hair danced on the breeze, beautiful, her innocent eyes seemed older, still littered with naïve grace, but somehow knowing, hopeful. How did I feel? Blissful, safe, wonderful, home; lost, confused, unknowing… Perfect. I felt like I'd spent my whole life seeing only black and white when suddenly I was introduced to colour; I felt alive. On that night a line was crossed, and nothing was the same again.

Her hand was warm on mine, an underrated comfort. I saw fire dance in her eyes; the stunning sparks that flickered so enchantingly were vibrant, so full of color, of life; they weren't just brown, they were so much more; she was so much more. How was it that she was both innocent and aware, tempting and naive? I'd always thought falling in love would be the best thing to happen to me. And yet it was a virtues sorrow. I almost gave in so weakly, to the very thing I'd dreamt of so desperately, but I couldn't for it was a curse… Something so flawed, so destructively imperfect couldn't be a blessing, could it? "Maybe you need to stop trying to make it so perfect; don't try to write love how it should be, or how you wish it was. Forget all you're previous beliefs of love and happiness, forget fairytales and clichés; just write how you feel; write love how it is, to you." Emptiness gave way to fullness, my mind flooded with emotion, sentiment I couldn't control or understand- one day, maybe. I wasn't ready, but I was waiting: "Thank you."

_She was the kind of girl who thought "Thank you" carried no other meaning than the obvious, she should have known better. But she always had been a doe eyed innocent just as he'd always been a dreamy eyed believer, always would. Little did she know she was his most recent dream, his latest obsession. The wistfulness of his hopeful blue eyes wasn't down to faith; it was the result of newly found vision; the constant truth finally discovered. Finally hopeful faith had been found, although discovered long ago in its revealed state it was somehow concealed to the blind eye. Until now._

**I hope you're enjoying the story so far! I'd love to know what you think so please let me know in a review! Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed the last two chapters, you guys are amazing! **_**:) **_**Sorry this chapter took so long, I've been really busy lately, but I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy the next chapter **_**:)**_


	4. Chapter 4

_She was the kind of girl who'd choose regularity over inconsistency. Reliability was more comfortable that unpredictability. So she lived with consistently even spaces and perfectly straight hair; convincing herself she didn't care for curls. Fruitlessly pretending foundation was enough to cover her freckles. _

Emma's POV

Thank you? Thank you?! Why was that all he could ever muster? Why was it that he couldn't find it in himself to say something just a tiny bit more meaningful? Was it because he meant no more than that? Because I was just a friend and nothing more, I always had been and always would. But why couldn't he, for once, stretch his boundaries just a little bit more, just that tiny bit would make all the difference. I did that for him every day- faced my fears without hesitance because I knew he was worth every bit of pain I would find in the darkness. And yet he couldn't even muster the words to confess, I didn't ask for love, oh no. I knew his love had and always would belong to Terri. Although I wasn't sure I put that down to faith. But I couldn't help but want something more, with everything I gave to him, more than willingly, I longed for something; everything. But all there ever was was thank you.

"_Emma, will you marry me?" It was all wrong; it was too right. Carl's expression was less than loving, more than adoring. His hair was too slick, too perfect; artificial. His brown eyes were no more than flawless; somehow too perfect. He smiled, he was handsome, eerily so, his eyes remained without a sparkle, his grin remained hauntingly straight, what when I was used to such lopsided beauty. I knew my time was up; crooked or even, brown or blue, curly or straight; perfection, or something more, something uncertain, something fearfully untouched, wonderfully familiar; Safety or passion, fear or doubt? I realised there'd never really been a choice, there'd always been an answer, I always knew, the hard part was admitting it. _

"Emma, hey…" I looked up in surprise. Will. At any other moment I'd be overjoyed by Will's presence but recently I'd been finding it hard to be around him. I mustered a small smile from somewhere distant, close to forgotten. "Hi Will." I returned my gaze to the table I'd been cleaning fervently; as if it was the most important thing in the world. As if it even mattered. I felt his concerned eyes on me even as I turned. His burning stare threatened to subdue every wall I'd built or attempted to build; I was powerless to his fiery gaze, as weak as ever, even protected. I couldn't face him, the battle was harsh even without his eyes; his voice was equally overwhelming. "Are you okay?" His tone was gentle, caring. As if he cared. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Will knew. He always could tell, he caught my arm as I turned, grasping me just a little too close. I choked a gasp as we collided, fought the urge to melt further into his warmth. "Tell me?" His eyes bored into mine, like we were the only ones in the world, there was no Terri and no Carl just Will and Emma, because he cared. Always had, always would. He did. He must have, I mean if he didn't then he wouldn't ask, would he? He _was_ the kind of person who'd show kindness to even the lowest of lows, Terri, for example. I gladly surrendered, how was I supposed to be rational when his breath was warm on my cheek? How could I form a coherent sentence when his eyes sought such honesty, a love I was so willing to give? "Do you love her?" There was no need to specify, he knew who I was talking about. His reaction was too fast; his voice was too high, too innocent; too guilty. Will pulled away in surprise, his expression consumed with shock; feigned innocence. "Of course I do! Why would you even question that?" I responded with a slow, sad nod. I expected no less. "What was that?" Will asked defensively. "Nothing, nothing." I brushed the question off in an attempt to clear the air, the lies that fought to protect our friendship were crumbling one by one and soon there'd be nothing left. "Don't lie to me Emma. Tell me, please." Will voiced my words, and I spoke my thoughts, in a moment all our beautiful lies were gone, leaving only the truth but as ugly as it was, it was time. "It's just that…" I sighed deeply, convincing myself that was all I needed to feel alive again, but even the deepest of breaths couldn't fix what'd always been broken. I knew at least I couldn't go on living a lie. It's hard to smile knowing there's no reason to, it's hard to pretend your heart's beating when you know it's broken. Knowing I might be so close to Will's heart and yet fear of losing everything kept me from having nothing at all. Once I'd believed it was better that way, safer. But now I wasn't so sure. "I just…" The kindness in Will's warm eyes gave me the strength to carry on, I wasn't so scared anymore. I took a deep breath as I allowed myself a moment to immerse in the kindness in his eyes, it felt like I'd waited my whole life for a moment of sanctuary when I found it, in the most obscure of settings, in the most doubtful of times, in the eyes of the one I loved the most, who didn't even know. What would he have said if I told him? How would he react if I spoke the words I'd held captive for so long? Would he think me Juvenile? Foolish? Delusional? Probably, almost definitely, but maybe not, and for someone who had nothing to start with, maybe seemed pretty amazing. So I spoke as if nothing else mattered, because to be honest, nothing did, Will was everything I had, everything I wanted, needed. I knew I'd fight for maybe for as long as it took, with everything I longed to have. "I… I Lo-think that you might be settling for her." He wasn't ready, I wasn't. We were. "What, what are you talking about?" Will's voice was teeming with anticipation, longing, or frustration, confusion, or desire. His eyes read nothing, and yet they searched mine for everything. "Do you love her?" I asked, my voice was haunted with forced sanity. When all I wanted to do was beg and scream and cry, because there was a part of me that longed for raw emotion, for freedom and expression. For someone blind to her own feelings, ignorant to the cries of her heart, unrefined sentiment sounded pretty good- I was tired of pretending. My voice broke at the last syllable, words were faltering; littered with such vivid emotion. I was exposed, unprotected. To Will it may have been a simple question, but to me… It was a breakthrough, I wasn't afraid anymore; I was alive. Now it was his turn to breathe, if he could muster the courage. In a second that stretched into a hundred our eyes met for the first time. Countless times we'd shared abundant stares, but this was the first that meant a word of truth. "Do you love him?" Will's voice was soft, lifeless. "No." His eyes lit up- relief? I carried on when he made no attempt to interrupt. "He asked me to marry him and I said no." I nodded casually as if we were discussing something mediocre as opposed to the end of childhood as we knew it. "Em… I'm so sorry." I softened at his words, at the use of the nickname I shouldn't have adored as much as I did. Wavered at the recognition of our proximity; he was so _close_. I watched carefully as he reached towards me, just slightly, his hand brushed against mine, the electricity that tore through my body as we touched wasn't terrifying; it was wonderfully familiar. It was everything I'd ever wanted, but feared, foolishly, but truly. Now I wasn't scared, I was loved. Or I would have been, if Will could believe it. With his fragile strength I lost all power, with a touch I was broken. "Don't be. I was just kidding myself really… I was pretending everything was fine when I knew it wasn't. There was just a point that I realized I wanted to be more than safe; I wanted to take a risk for the chance of happiness, I'm tired of being afraid." His eyes widened, if that wasn't adoration in his wistful blue eyes I wasn't sure what was. And I sought veneration, love, and finally, lust. But discovered nothing more than admiration, I figured that was a start. Will had never seen me so passionate, so out of control. I didn't care, I cared too much; I didn't, wouldn't, give him the time to respond with more than his eyes. For a moment I thought he might just care more than I disbelieved. I pondered the likeliness of such a thing, before realizing it was close to impossible. But I couldn't help but dream, as I always had. Whenever I imagined my future there was never anyone but Will by my side. There didn't need to be anything but his smiling face in the image and I wouldn't care for any other detail, he was everything. So yes, I wanted him to be glad, no, overjoyed, that no other man would touch me when he wasn't allowed. I wanted him to _crave_ me. I wasn't him to sweep my off my feet as I finally allowed myself to succumb to such passionate devotion. I wanted him to tell me I was the only one he'd ever loved, ever wanted. For one moment I wanted to know what it was like to be Terri. But instead he told me he was sorry I wasn't getting married- he was _sorry_. Because where there should have been love there was hope and where there should have been devotion there was faith.

Will's POV

"Thank you." I watched as her face fell from one of masked contentment to hidden heartbreak. In a moment all was lost. I thought I couldn't say anything worse than that, I knew if I could I would and because I could I did, not intentionally, never intentionally. Any hope for happiness was truly gone because I'd said the unspoken, or said nothing at all; whatever was worse.

"Bye grandma, I'll see you later… Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?" I asked nervously, sub consciously checking the oven was off and the phone was plugged in. "I'm old not incompetent William. I'll be fine- I've got Downton Abbey on in half an hour and the best of the 40s at 9. You go have a good time! Don't worry about your old Nan. Have fun with your girlfriend." She ensured me, waving me off with a flick of her bony hand. She was as independent as ever, age hadn't changed her, not ever. Even with half a mind she had twice a heart and she never thought with any less. I wish I had such bravery, or was it insanity? Her Blue eyes twinkled, matching my own; the same curly hair was of a deep shade of silver. For a second it was as if I was a little boy again. For a moment I forgot. "Have fun now, and say hi to Emma for me, lovely girl she is… Always knew you two would end up together-" I furrowed my brow in bewilderment, putting the confusion down to Alzheimer's, I tilted my head slightly as I attempted to speak, but she carried on before I could open my mouth. "-two pees in a pod you two are, always have been, haven't seen two people more perfect for each other since your parents… Make sure you don't screw it up, she's a keeper." She smiled knowingly, as if she kept a juicy secret I had yet to discover. Maybe grandma wasn't as mad as she seemed. I didn't meet Terri that night, I didn't meet her the one after that, either. I didn't meet her for a while in fact. I couldn't face my mistakes knowing they were mine to fix. It wasn't me who faced my fears that night but rather my fears that faced me.

"What's going on, Will? And don't try to say everything's fine, because I know it's not, just tell me and we can get this over with." Terri never was one for heart to heats. I never was one to confess. It wasn't the kind of emotional break up I'd prepared myself for. But nothing in my life ever seemed to turn out the way I expected. So in a way it was exactly as I'd anticipated. I knew Terri never loved me, so her tearless expectance wasn't a surprise. In the moment she placed the ring in my hand I thought I saw a flicker of something in her placid blue eyes. Remorse? Sadness? Regret? It was hard to tell. The glimmer had faded as quickly as it had came. And I was left with nothing. My security had crumbled and I was left defenseless. Considering how far my mind had got me I decided it was time to think with my heart, even if that made me crazy. It was time to start living for love, for true perfection, the kind of flawlessness that comes with true love alone. I had nothing to lose after all, except maybe everything.

I didn't choose to fall in love, we never chose such a thing, if we could then we wouldn't and then there'd never be happiness, because no one would take the risk of sadness. But after your last breath is torn from your body and you realize nothing's changed you start to wonder if you've ever really lived at all.

_He was the kind of boy who kidded himself he was hopeful when really he was blind. She put his sightlessness down to faith when really it was fear, fear and the hope that there was more than doubt. It wasn't until he had lost that he could really gain. It wasn't until he had feared that he could truly love. When he found someone worth the heartache he would exercise his passion. When she made his heart beat loud he'd know it was there. So he'd no longer care for the remains of his mind, because he'd know of greater. He'd be proudly insane, happily defenseless, wonderfully alive, because he was happily, hopelessly, crazily, in love. _

**I'm sorry this took so long to update but I had writers block for a long time, if you're still reading this fic then thank you so much for sticking with it, and I hope you've enjoyed reading! Please review, it will make the next (and probably final) chapter come quicker because your reviews really do inspire me, even if it's just "You suck what are you doing writing?" every word means the world to me and helps me write because I know what you guys want to see happen next. Guest review is on if you're shy, (please don't be I'm seriously the least scary person ever), or you don't have an account. And thank you so much to those of you who do, you guys are amazing and thank you those of you who reviewed last chapter! Aaanyway, I hope you're enjoying this story and I hope you like the rest! Thanks for reading **_**:)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_He was the kind of boy who could fall in love with a stranger; someone whose mere presence made his heart sing and his eyes smile, yes, he was sure that was love. _

Will's POV__

I needed to learn to live again. It was that simple and that complicated. I needed a reason, a meaning, a someone or a something. I'd always loved my job but recently I'd begun to question everything, I only knew I wasn't sure what I wanted. I wasn't engaged anymore, that was for sure, too. I was a wedding singer, just as I'd always dreamt, then suddenly, it meant nothing, I wasn't sure what love was anymore, every detail of the life I'd previously lived for was suddenly insignificant. Because I didn't even know what love was, and to me, love was everything, I woke up dreaming of the mystery I longed to discover, thought I'd found, until... I grew up. And now I didn't even know how to be alive.

I wanted to talk to Emma about it; she was the only one who ever _could_ understand... But lately I didn't even know how to be around her, but I wanted to be around her, with her, by her and next to her, for forever and always, almost too much. So yes, I was scared. Because when I thought of her smiling, beautiful face I was consumed by a desire like no other, it was crazy, overwhelming- life changing; maybe even life beginning. It was enough to forget everything and be happy all the same and I was, I had, I did. Somehow _it_ wasn't perfect, though, whatever "it", was. It wasn't sunny as it had been in my mind; it rained, as it always had. But in my heart, it shone. Because although she couldn't stop the rain; she didn't possess the kind of power that turns darkness to light, or, now I think of it, any kind of magic. The only thing magical about us was how we felt, and even that was balanced on the thin line between love and insanity. Somehow that was okay though, because at the end of the storm and into the starless night, there she was, innocently shining in all her concealed beauty, wonderfully flawed, totally known, there she was; perfection.

"Come on Will, you've not left the house for days, go outside- get some fresh air!" I sighted solemnly and shook my head sadly, "Grandma..." I whined tiredly as she tugged enthusiastically at my pyjamas. Her feeble attempt to move me, physically, was unsuccessful, but she always made up for that with good nature. Regretfully, I rose from my seat, slowly, hesitantly, as if the mere thought of going outside was painful on its own. "What's wrong with you, boy?" She asked wrinkled features etched with concern, lively eyes glowing with wisdom. I took comfort in her aged form, her smile always knowing, always waiting. "I don't know..." I replied glumly. She chuckled fondly, "so dramatic! You always were, made for the stage you are..." She smiled to herself, blissfully distant, I remembered a time I was so far away. Grandma carried on long after I thought I'd lost her. "Come on Will... Don't worry; I'm sure everything'll be fine..." Her kind eyes read only concern, affection. "No." I replied surely, "No, it won't" Her eyes fogged with serious earnest, "What's going on Will?" I took a deep breath as I prepared myself for what I was about to say, "I'm in love with Emma." She nodded, calmly, as if it was nothing she didn't know and yet it was the first time I'd said it out loud. "Yes." And then she smiled, a wonderfully crooked grin, the symbol of my childhood. "What do you mean "yes"?" I asked in confused awe. "Well you two are obviously made for each other... You always have been." "What do you mean?" I asked seriously, frustrated that the most confusing conversation of my life was with the most confused person in my life. "We always said, me and Jeanie and, well, everyone else really, that you two would end up together. I told her you'd be married by 25, had me worried you did, thought I might lose that bet! But looks like Jeanie'll owe me that one now!"She smiled again. And returned her gaze to the distance, staring dreamily she smiled happily at an image lost to my eyes. "What?!" I asked again, consumed with shock- was I the only one who was lost? "Yes, and we've planned your wedding, have been for years. Ever since you set your heart on being a wedding singer, we always said you'd sing at your own wedding, a lot cheaper than paying for your own entertainment..." The image she was gazing at so intently seemed to be growing clearer by the minute, she was getting lost in her own world, again. I wished I was there with her, in that amazing, wonderful place she'd created. Maybe I could be... But was that what I wanted? "I think you know the answer to that." I glanced up at my grandma, trying to read her expression, how did she know what I was thinking? Her blue eyes were laced with something more than certainty- promise. "But what if she doesn't feel the same way?" I murmured, mostly to myself. "She does." I returned my stare to her serious, concentrated, expression. She'd begun knitting. "If you don't tell her I will." Her firm, intense expression shifted to mine, her formerly stern stare transformed before my eyes into something more, another knowing smile, as always, perfectly lopsided. There was always more.

"Hello Mrs. Pillsbury, is Emma there?" I visibly stiffened at her critical stare; she sniffed disapprovingly before replying, not quite directly. "Emma there's someone at the door for you." She'd known me for years and somehow I was never anything more than a someone; a misshapen piece of her life, a flaw in the perfect picture that was more broken than she knew. She didn't know Emma like I did, if she did she'd realise she was so much more than perfect. She'd never fit into that family portrait. On cue Emma appeared in the doorway, dressed in a graceful blue dress, decorated with a simple bow. I knew it wasn't possible, that dress had to be fifteen years old, but somehow it matched the one she wore the day we met, or spoke at least; symbolised the beginning of our friendship, and now, the start of something more. Today she wasn't a child in a pretty dress; she was a woman and she was beautiful. It was so clear; the fine silk hugged her curves effortlessly in a way that was both enticing and innocent. She was angelic, somehow devilish. Because now her hair was lose and free, gentle ringlets framed her delicate features, priceless golden, glowing red. The girlish pigtails were a distant memory, today she was free; a woman. "Hey..." Her sentence hung, lifeless, in the air. "Hi..." I made no attempt to amend the falling words, I was tired of trying. This time, for the first time, a grin wasn't enough; the trouble was that words weren't either. I decided to wait for the right moment, convinced myself that was all we needed.

We spent the afternoon at the park, because it was a place that was simply ours… and the army of uncountable men, women and children. But as the joggers jogged, the talkers talked and the eaters ate it was like we were children again, aimlessly wandering through the familiar setting of greenery. Watching the world go by, together we knew something they didn't; we had discovered a mystery lost to those who hurtled through life, aimlessly searching for happiness that wasn't perfection as they believed. I remembered a time I had been so blind. I'd wasted so long already. But the time wasn't right, it had to be perfect, everything, had to be perfect.

She eyed me quizzically, noticing my vacant stare, eternally wistful. And I smiled because there was nothing to say and sighed in defeat. Life, had defeated me, either that or I'd never really lived. Her beautiful brown eyes met mine- fire. Yes, I'd never lived. I was sure for a moment, as our gazes met, mine longing, dreamy; hers, knowing, expectant; together? reborn_._

"Are you okay?" we both knew the question was meaningless, the answer was obvious. But still she asked and I answered, as if I was happy, as if I understood the multitude of feelings pulsing through my veins, the warmth that captured my body in an overwhelming glow of emotion. But we could pretend, at least for a little while longer, we could act like nothing had changed, like we weren't so desperately afraid.

"I'm fine, and you?" She nodded half heartedly, and replied sweetly: "fine, thank you." And then there was silence, the piercing cry of my heart barely recognizable beneath the layers of captivating quiet, blistering tension, brutal denial. And then she spoke, her quiet voice piercing the bitter silence. "I heard about what happened with Terri… I'm so sorry Will…" I searched her sad eyes, wishing to find something more than sympathy, but on the surface, at least, there was nothing more, I wasn't looking deep enough. "Don't be, it's just like you said… I was just kidding myself; it's for the best really… It's almost like I've made room for something more." _For you. _We smiled, trying desperately to show the other how we felt without words, too scared to voice our true feelings, disbelieving, _afraid _and flawed, at last, to ourselves.

"Will?", "yes Em?" It was getting late. I don't know how long we sat there, wasting the day with pointless words. The time was sacred, far from pointless. By then the darkness was already creeping across the white washed sky, barley blue. "Could I ask you a question… And you've got to be honest, and please, please don't take offence?" Emma pleaded sincerely, her eyes warm beneath thick, ash lashes, cheeks pink from the frosty night air. "Anything for you." I whispered back, a little too honestly, she'd never know how true that was. She nodded, nervous, disbelieving. "Are you happy? You know, with how your life turned out?" Her kind eyes desperately searched mine for an answer, as if believing my eyes might tell a different story to my lips. "No." Surprise, she was surprised. "At what age are you allowed to look back at your life with nothing but regret… Is twenty two too young?" Emma swallowed deeply, as if searching for the right words, she hesitated and smiled, eventually, "It's better than thirty two." As beautiful and wonderful and intoxicatingly breathtaking as Emma was, she was still Em, my best friend, the one who knew me better than anyone. I glanced up at her poised form; she smiled graciously, yes, lovely. My serious expression faded and I smiled despite myself, her perfection was contagious. I'd have liked to leave it there, to change to a lighter subject, but I knew I'd regret it later, alone in my room, or worse, facing my Grandma's sympathetic pity. So I carried on when I could have stopped, for the first time, I took the risk for something less than flawless.

"I used to have my whole life planned out…" I shook my head solemnly, "And now?" her response was soft, calm; she gazed at me with interest, like I was the most important person in the world, like I even mattered. "Now… I wonder if I know anything at all… if I've even been alive for the past twenty two years… Like I've wasted so long already." Compassion and empathy, not judgment, only kindness dusted the surface of Emma's chestnut eyes, I wondered if there was more beyond. "Everyone's got their regrets; we're only human after all…" Y_ou're not _only_ anything. "_I think… The most important thing is that you live your life the way you want to from now on, don't ever let fear get in the way of your happiness, never settle for less than perfect." _What if I want something more?_ "And if you want to feel alive… then you've got to start living." Who was this brave, free, woman before me? She wasn't the same Emma I grew up with, the girl who was afraid, she was embracing the dark, accepting the unknown for exactly was it was; a possibility, and she wasn't scared. That gave me strength. She smiled leaving me speechless, before I could respond she was on her feet. "Race you to the swings!" She laughed musically and ran gracefully towards the play ground, her blue skirts fanning out behind her life a colorful display of individuality, a peacock's feathers startled with locks of glowing red, soft gentle curls cascaded down her shoulders and danced on the wind. She turned back, fiery curls softly caressing her cheeks as she did so, and called breathlessly, "Are you coming or not?" I smiled at her, my Emma, and ran eagerly towards her, grinning, truly grinning, for the first time in a long time.

As the day drew to a close the sky darkened and the air grew colder. Neither of us made an attempt to move. I glanced over at Emma, eyeing her adoringly, what I hoped was subtly. It wasn't. I noticed her shiver, and cursed myself for being so inconsiderate. I wished I had a jacket for her to wear, that would've been perfect, but I didn't, typically, I sighed, why wasn't anything ever like the movies? "Are you cold?" Emma shook her head slightly, smiling at my concern. She was glad I cared, was she glad I cared? "You're shivering." I pointed out, gesturing to her shaking body with a small smile. She shuddered and shook her head in protest, "No, I'm dancing." I chuckled, a wholesome, joyful laugh that felt foreign on my lips; it felt good. I watched blissful as she bit back a smile, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "Dancing, really?" She nodded her response, and I watched as her eyes glowed, was it simply the reflection of the shining moon, or was it something more? "If you're going to do it, do it right." I finished the sentence with a cheeky grin, a flirty wink. Was she more crimson that usual? I rose to my feet, allowing my body to stand before hers, I gazed down at her, she was perfect. Her childish stance was adorable, her arms wrapped protectively around her knees, rosy cheeks and glittering eyes; perfect. Even with wisdom only age can allow, there was still that wonderfully childish innocence, that warm, hopeful, sparkle, and then there was fear, uncertainty and doubt that only came with age; and Emma always was one to be older than her years, fearful when she should have been faithful. Bambi was still finding her feet. I stretched out a hand. She'd never be alone again. I'd give her hope; I'd protect her from all her relentless fears, she'd never be afraid again, not ever, because she was my Emma now. Why hadn't I seen it sooner? Maybe it was for the best, I finally understood; I'd never be worthy, but I could spend my whole life being grateful.

She took my hand hesitantly and I pulled her to her feet, I'd never let her fall, she was safe in my arms. "I've got you." I smiled, wishing I could grin anything more than boyishly; I wanted to be a man for her. "I love your smile." I tilted my head in confusion, how did she know? I couldn't help but beam with pride, because she loved _my_ smile, not Carl or anyone else's perfect grin, but my lopsided, boyish, smile. She loved my smile, and I loved her. She blushed- no one was that scarlet I was sure. "I love it when you blush." I whispered my honest response, gazing deeply into her eyes even as the tension fought to break my fierce stare, I wouldn't yield, I couldn't give in, we'd come so far. I swallowed deeply, and watched as she wetted her dry lips with the tip of her pink tongue. Before I did something I'd waited too long to do at a moment anything less than perfect I span Emma around, encouraging her movements with my hand, I gently moved her in time to a song only we could hear. I grinned blissfully, as Emma giggled happily. But I couldn't help but miss the warmth of feeling her close, even with her tiny hand held in mine she was too far away. I spun her back to me, craving more of Emma. But I spun her a little too enthusiastically, causing her body collided with mine and with a crash, sparks flew. "Oh my gosh! Are you ok?" I was more than okay, laid on the soft, green, grass, Emma's tiny body resting comfortably on mine, we seemed to fit. Her cheeks were flushed; I could feel her heat so deeply. Her silky curls stroked my cheeks, she was so_ close_. I absorbed her beauty for a moment, wishing to freeze the memory in my mind, relive the wonderful innocencewhenever I desired. I feared soon there wouldn't be any innocence left, our childhood was over, and as much as I wanted that fearless, ignorant, bliss to last, maybe it was time to grow up; at least I knew I'd always have Emma. Even with knowledge tinting her warm, golden orbs, she'd always have beautiful brown Bambi eyes; she'd still be wobbly on her feet, just as I'd never stop believing one day I'd help her stand.

And just like that, it started to rain.

It wasn't even a nice kind of rain, it wasn't just a shower. It wasn't like the end of the rom-com- the moment the main characters realise they're made for each other and dive in for an unrealistically perfect movie star kiss, in the rain. I wasn't so absorbed in the moment that I didn't feel the icy drops of rain on my face. I felt the pouring rain, the angry wind.The moment wasn't perfect, but her breath was warm on my lips. I didn't have a dozen red roses or even a daisy, but she smiled at me as if I were prince charming all the same. The sun wasn't shining, but the rain that dampened her soft curls dripped from her cheeks and onto mine. She was my best friend, but my heart was beating fast.

She didn't look scared, there we were lying on the muddy, wet earth, drowned by rain and all she could do was smile and blush, as if my body alone was enough to protect her from the germs that surrounded us, that tortured her relentlessly. The reason she'd cleaned a grape the day we met, brought a blanket to sit on in the park. She was scared, we were scared, of germs and of the flawed, but we had each other, and what we had was so much less than perfect, it was worth the fear, for the possibility. Because what we had only came once. It couldn't be described with one word, or even a sentence. I'd been searching for perfection and I found so much more than that. I finally I understood that happiness wasn't flawlessness as I'd once believed.

All I'd ever wanted was to be loved and I was throwing all of that away over some silly, childish idea of how love should be. Love isn't red roses and candle lit dinners, it isn't moonlit walks in the park or drinking red wine as the sun sets; love's the meaning behind the cliché, the reason for the story- not the story itself. Love means something different to everyone. Maybe my definition of love is the kissing my best friend in the pouring rain, maybe love's the raging wind tearing at my soaked clothes, maybe it's the end of the day spent in the park with the person who means the most to me in the world, whether she knew it or not. Maybe the time and the place doesn't matter, maybe it's about the person you spent it with; maybe Emma was the definition of love after all, or mine at least.

I chuckled; she was far from heavy, in fact she was practically weightless, and felt almost comforting resting above me, warm, safe. The wind had picked up, joining the rain in an angry attempt to ruin the moment. But I wasn't going to let the livid rain or the desperate wind stop me anymore. Because nothing's ever perfect, not until you fall in love with it at least. And Emma was, and more, painfully, agonisingly, distressingly, wonderfully, more. "I'm fine... Are you okay?" She nodded and let out a breath I hadn't realised she'd been holding, with a soft giggle, a delicate smile. And then there was silence; silence, and longing, the sound of the wind tearing at our soaked clothes. And yet neither of us made an attempt to move further than a few inch's so that we were kneeling on the wet ground, her beautiful dress smudged with dirt, she didn't seem to care. I stroked a speck of dirt that had found its way to her cheek, moved a stray lock of wet hair that attempted to blemish her effortless beauty. It didn't even touch her perfection, no amount of rain or mud or grass could dampen her unknowing flawlessness, she was more than perfect to me. I watched as her eyes widened, mine set on her lips, soft, red, lips. I remembered the time ours had met; the warmth that still haunted me to this day. And there they were; those heartbreakingly beautiful Bambi eyes, the eyes of my best friend, that showed hope, longing, desire. I was mesmerised by the wonderful warmth that coursed through my veins as our lips met. Shocked by the way her body weakened above mine as she melted into the kiss, I rushed to catch her, knowing I'd never let her fall. My arms wrapped around her protectively, stroking the soft material of the blue dress, the girl who'd always remain Bambi even as her hair turned silver and her features aged with life, the life I'd show her, the life that'd just begun. We pulled apart when the air had run out, only when we had to, we parted slowly. I opened my eyes, really opened them, and although neither of us said a word, we didn't need to. Emma's eyes widened and mine sparkled, just as they always had. In that moment, gazing lovingly into the eyes of my best friend, our hearts beat fast, in sync; the only sound in the starless night, I must be alive, I realised, my heart was screaming, beating rapidly out of my chest, so loud she must have been able to hear it, the sound of our hearts was deafening. We were alive. And our story was only just beginning.

There'd never be an instant worthy, no one moment could describe a lifetime of imperfect nothings, the wonderful memories we'd created together were precious, irreplaceable, indescribable; less that flawless. I couldn't expect a fairy tale, that was someone else's story and not mine. And I couldn't expect for the world to change for us alone. The rain wouldn't end because we were getting cold. We'd have to dance until we forgot, until nothing else mattered but the way our hands seemed to fit perfectly together. The grass wasn't going to dry so Emma could comfortably walk home. But I was happy to carry her to the ends of the earth and back. The stars weren't going to appear for that one night, when they'd never graced the sky before. But we didn't need a shooting star for hope, not anymore. Not when we had so much more, the result of faith, of happiness without perfection; of love. Because there was so much more than flawlessness- there always, was more.

_He wasn't a boy, he was a man. And he wasn't a "kind" or a "type "of person, to her at least; the only kind of person he was, was, "one of a kind". The stranger who was her best friend, who could make her heart sing and her eyes smile, the one who kissed her under the fading sun, who called her Bambi, too young and naive to realise the reason for her widened doe eyes, flushed cheeks; the one who'd forever remain too naive. The owner of that perfectly lopsided grin, that'd never change, the chin dimple and the sparkling blue eyes that were simply him. The one who taught her how to dream; how to love- the one; Will, The Wedding Singer._


End file.
